The Princess and her King
by CrossbowsAndClaws
Summary: Bellamy awakens alone and and sets off on a mission to save Clarke. Bellarke. Some Finn bashing, even though I like his character. MurphyxOC as well. Set after the events of the Season 1 finale, and goes AU from there.
1. Prologue

**The Princess and her King**

 ** _A/N: Hey all! I've just watched both seasons of the 100 within six days – I can't actually walk right now, so I had nothing else to do! – And I just couldn't NOT write a Bellarke story. This is my first fanfic, so feedback would be nice, if you can spare the time._**

 ** _Anyway, here we go!_**

 ** _P.S. I DO NOT own the 100, or any subsequent characters/situations etc. that all belongs to Kass Morgan._**

 **Prologue**

There was nothing but darkness, pain and cold. He couldn't remember where he was. Who he was. There was one thing he knew… Something he had to do… But he couldn't remember. It was definitely important though. He would remember. He would rest first though… Yeah, just a short rest.

It was still dark when he woke, and he was still in pain. He still didn't know where he was or who he was. But the important thing was coming back to him. In flashes of colour.

First there was a bright gold, that was somehow soft and inviting. Then a gentle pink, resembling a flower he had learned about… somewhere. Just above and slightly to the right of the slash of pink was a dark brown circle. He thought that circle was adorable. He had no idea why, it was just a shape. Another image, this one by far the most beautiful. A bright, icy blue that made him want to stare into it forever, never blinking. It was the most incredible colour he'd ever seen. Not that he knew where he'd seen it before, or seen any of the colours before in fact. But they were a change from the darkness and that made him happy, so he didn't worry about it.

He was too tired to worry.

This time when he woke up, he heard a voice. It was a quiet one, but it held power.

 _"Bellamy…"_

That rang a bell. What was a Bellamy?

 _"Bellamy…"_

And that voice… It was angelic. Who did it belong to? He saw again that perfect blue. He felt the softest touch on his cheek. It was warm, soft, and comforting.

His mouth opened, and he heard his own voice whisper.

"Clarke."


	2. Chapter 1: Memories

**_A/N: Hi all… Again! Totally overwhelmed with the response to this story – lots of reads and a handful of follows – and it made me want to write another chapter for you guys!_**

 ** _From here on in, let's just assume that last chapter's disclaimer appears, at least in spirit, in every chapter, hmm? Just to save us all a bit of time (mostly me)!_**

 ** _Here we go…_**

 **Chapter 1: Memories**

Clarke.

The name jump started his brain.

All of those colours, the colours of her. That voice, hers, returning his identity to him.

Bellamy. Son of Aurora, brother and effectively father of Octavia. Co-leader of the 100. Clarke's partner in that way. Clarke. Clarke.

Where the hell was Clarke?

He had to find her. First things first though. He had to find himself.

He attempted to wiggle around in the dark space he was confined in, and then froze, stifling a bellow of agony. The pain was back. And it was everywhere. His whole body burned with it.

Burned.

Burning.

The dropship! Clarke had closed the door on him and Finn, and set off the rockets. It had been the right move, but she was no doubt torturing herself over it.

Finn. That little bastard!

He remembered now. The door had started to close, and Spacewalker had pushed the Grounder they were fighting onto Bellamy and tried to run for the door. The Grounder had grabbed Finn's ankle and pulled him down. While he was distracted, Bellamy had lunged and knocked him down. Grabbing Finn by the collar he began to haul him away, knowing what would come next. They had made it almost to the gate when a few remaining Grounders had circled them. Bellamy drew to a halt, knowing there wasn't a way out, they would just have to hope the fire killed the Grounders and hopefully not them.

However, it turned out Spacewalker was not a patient guy, and shot Bellamy in the leg with the pistol he had taken from Bellamy's waist band. Bellamy had yelled in surprise and pain, momentarily distracting the Grounders. Then Finn had turned tail and ran, abandoning Bellamy to the Grounders with no weapon and unable to run.

At that exact moment the engines began to rumble, and the Grounders turned their backs on Bellamy to look at the dropship behind them. Bellamy took the chance unknowingly provided by Clarke, and crawled – more like dragged himself – as quickly and quietly as he could out of the gates. The further he got, the safer he would be, from the fire at least.

The engines fired, and the heat was unbelievable. Flames hit his back and he screamed, rolling around to put them out. Shrapnel was flying through the air, one sliced his face, another buried itself in his stomach. He rolled over again, trying to stop from pushing the piece in further. The pain was making his vision blurry, and the blood dripping into his eyes from his head wasn't helping. He saw a dark hole a few metres away, and dragged himself towards it. He recognised it as one of the hides they had built near the gunner posts. His fingers scrabbled at the entrance, and then…

Nothing.

Darkness.

Cold.

Pain.

He must still be in the hide. He needed to get out and try to dress his wounds in some way. Bellamy heaved in a deep breath and began to wriggle backwards. He let out a yelp as the shrapnel shard caught on a rock and moved inside him. He pressed his face into the soil and tried his hardest not to scream as the tears ran down his face. He drew in another breath, shakier this time, and started to move again. He felt air on his exposed ankles and knew he was almost there.

A hand wrapped around his ankle and yanked him out of the hide. Bellamy howled in pain and flipped onto his back. Two Grounders loomed over him, weapons in hand. He lashed out at the one holding his ankle with his free foot, steel-toed boots catching him in the temple. The Grounder collapsed and Bellamy turned to face the other one, a moment too late. The Grounders boot planted itself on his throat and pressed down.

Bellamy choked and writhed, pushing at the boot, but to no avail. The Grounder leaned down as Bellamy slipped his hand down to his abdomen.

"It will be an honour to kill the last of the Sky People."

Bellamy froze, looking up at the Grounder wide-eyed. The Grounder just laughed at him.

"Your people were taken by the Mountain Men, Sky King. They are dead, or will die soon, in agony." The Grounder seemed delighted by the prospect. Bellamy's hand dug into his wound, searching out the piece of shrapnel. He gripped it, hands slick with his own blood and yanked it out, swinging it towards the Grounder. He overestimated his own strength, however, and the chunk of metal sank deep into the Grounder's leg, rather than his throat which he had exposed while leaning down to speak. It had the desired effect, however, forcing the Grounder to stop choking him.

He tumbled back, gripping his leg, eyes wide with shock, quickly turning to fury. He stood again, fumbling for his knife. There was a loud cracking sound, and the Grounder collapsed.

Dead.

That cracking sound – a bullet.

If the Grounder was telling the truth, that left only Finn or Octavia who could have fired the shot. He groaned, sitting up as he heard footsteps running towards him. If it wasn't the shooter, he needed to be ready to fight. If it was Finn, he needed to do the same. If it was Octavia he didn't want to frighten her by remaining still, and he didn't want to appear weak the Lincoln. If it was his sister, he had no doubt her admirer was close behind.

Much to Bellamy's surprise, the person who landed beside him was none of those people.

It was John Murphy.

And he was holding a semi-automatic assault rifle, pointed directly at Bellamy's head.

 ** _A/N: There you have it! Bellamy remembers – and Murphy appears! As I've said before, I've watched both seasons, and I really like Murphy in season 2, so I've decided to throw him into the mix. Please R &R! I'd love to know what you guys think. :D_**


	3. Chapter 2: Regrets

**_A/N: Hey again! I'm just totally amazed at how many people have read this, alerted etc. it makes me totally happy. Thank you Bellarke-Stories-Blog for your review, and Guest. It was brought to my attention that some aspects of my story are confusing, so if anybody is confused be sure to tell me and I'll answer you or fix the discrepancy as best I can!_**

 ** _Onwards!_**

 **Chapter 2: Regrets**

Bellamy stared down the barrel of Murphy's gun, sure this would be when he died. He tried to dredge up memories of Octavia, so he could see his sister again before he died. And then Clarke's face popped into his head.

If what the Grounder said was true, Bellamy had to live to save her and the rest of the 100 from the Mountain Men. He couldn't do that if Murphy killed him now. He tensed his muscles in preparation for a leap at Murphy. This was going to hurt like all hell. He took in a deep breath.

Three.

Two.

One.

Wait.

Murphy slung his rifle behind his back and crouched down. What, a bullet was too easy? Was Murphy going to beat him to death now? He wouldn't be able to. Bellamy readied himself for a fight.

Murphy tugged up Bellamy's shirt, and he jerked back in surprise.

Murphy was inspecting his wound and muttering to himself.

"I thought it was you. Good damn deal I got here when I did, no way you could have fought off a Grounder after ripping this damn hole in yourself. Fuck sake. Your Princess is going to shit a brick when she sees this. Best get you back to her, she can sew you up and kiss it better."

With that, Murphy made to help Bellamy up, but he recoiled, kicking out at him. His boot caught Murphy in the chest sending him reeling, and Bellamy's wound exploded in pain. He hissed and grabbed it. Murphy smacked his hand.

"I don't know much, but even I know you shouldn't touch that with filthy hands. Christ, the hell was that for? I'm just trying to help! My ribs kill…"

"I think you're confused, Murphy. You're the killer here, not your damn ribs. The last time I saw you, you strung me up in the dropship and used the last of our gunpowder to blow a hole in our only real shelter. And now you just appear out of the woods, claiming to want to help me?"

Murphy looked down at the ground. He swallowed and then looked up at Bellamy through his fringe. Bellamy was shocked by the sorrow, guilt and self-hatred he found there.

"I'm so sorry Bellamy, truly I am. I was taken by the Mountain Men. There was this room, and a man in a suit would come in and inject me with this red stuff. And it burned. My god did it burn. They use it to turn Grounders into Reapers, like demented guard dogs. But on us, it just makes you angry and hateful, you don't want anything but revenge, even for the smallest of slights. And you hanged me first. That's no small thing. I understand that hunting Charlotte was wrong, and it's my fault that little girl's dead. And I can't ever take that back." Murphy's eyes shined with unshed tears now, but Bellamy didn't know if they were fake or real. "Clarke should have let you beat me to death. It would have been better than I deserve. Every time I close my eyes I see her face. Haunting me. I think the Mountain Men found out her name somehow, I don't know if I said it or they were watching us. The doctor they sent in to check on me was called Charlotte. It said so on her name-tag. They always emphasised her name when ever they spoke about her, when everyone else was just doctor and then their last name, she was always Charlotte. They made me start to blame you for that as well. Eventually I think they got bored of me and sold me off to a gang of Grounders, they called them the Rebel Tribe. Something about them refusing the rule of the Commander? I don't even know. They tortured me for days on end without stopping. Eventually I caved, told them what they wanted to hear. How you were only armed with knives, morale and rations were low, many had already died from disease. They left the door unlocked one day, a mistake, I thought. I left the room and there on the desk was more of that weird aggression drug. I took it, got to camp, and, well… you know what happened next. When I left, I hadn't even travelled more than a few hours before they caught me. I told them that there were only a few left, the disease killed many. I forgot to mention the mines and grenades. They found out that I lied though." Murphy showed Bellamy his hands. It looked like the fingernails had been pulled out. "They were not happy with me, obviously. I did the best I could. I'm sorry."

Bellamy had watched Murphy carefully throughout his speech, and pulled on all of his guard training and experience with people. Murphy had kept eye contact, and not fidgeted. He had seen the pain in his eyes when he spoke of Charlotte. The only time he broke eye contact, apart from blinking, was when he was unable to speak about what happened on the dropship. Bellamy now had a choice to make, and the wrong one would undoubtedly kill him. He searched Murphy's eyes, and knew the time had come to make his choice.

"Clarke isn't at the dropship. According to that Grounder the Mountain Men took her and the rest of them. There'll be medical supplies there though. You up for the trip?"

Murphy's head, which had lowered again after Bellamy's lack of reaction to his story, snapped up to him. His eyes were wide and shocked. He recovered quickly and gave a small smile. He nodded and stood, manoeuvring around Bellamy to a better position to help him stand. Together they somehow managed to struggle the wounded Bellamy to his feet, and Murphy slung Bellamy's arm around his shoulders.

"You ready?" Murphy asked, looking up to see the man's eyes already on him. Bellamy nodded and Murphy adjusted his grip.

"Murphy… Don't make me regret this."

Murphy looked at him. From anybody else, the line would have sounded desperate, especially as injured as Bellamy was. But looking into his eyes, Murphy knew the warning was not for Bellamy's own sake, but for Murphy's. He would not stand a second betrayal by Murphy, and would kill him if he did. Bellamy was, Murphy reflected, probably the only person alive who could be absolutely threatening, and send that chill down his spine, even while being unable to stand under his own power. He was a truly intimidating man. The only person he'd seen successfully calm Bellamy, even make him be somewhat nice to people was Clarke. Sure, Octavia had a strong hold over her brother, but she seemed unable and even unwilling to pull him back from his rage. He remembered when Clarke used that same ability to save Murphy himself from Bellamy's wrath.

Now, Murphy was not the most well-versed in relationships and love. But he knew for sure that was what Bellamy and Clarke shared, even if they didn't know it themselves yet. It was painfully obvious to everyone except them. And Murphy hadn't missed the way Bellamy hadn't corrected him when he'd referred to Clarke as Bellamy's. Yes, those two were hopelessly in love, and he almost felt bad for the Mountain Men. They had Clarke, and Bellamy would make them regret it, one way or another.

Then, of course, Murphy remembered that the Mountain Men were cruel, sadistic murderers, and suddenly he didn't feel so bad for them. A furious, wrathful Bellamy sounded like exactly what the bastards deserved.

"You won't."

 ** _A/N: Boom! There you have it folks! I tried my best to show that Murphy truly feels guilty about what he's done. I think a kind of PTSD has to take effect after the hell some of the 100 have been through. For example, SPOILERSPOILERSPOILER, when Finn shoots up that village, I think the others don't really take into account the fact that he could have PTSD, and the Grounders certainly didn't. But maybe that's just me. END OF SPOILER._**

 ** _In this story Finn is going to be portrayed as the bad guy, but I love his character so much!_**

 ** _Please R &R!_**


	4. Chapter 3: A Reunion

_**A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long to update! Life happened and it's kind of kicking my ass, not gonna lie. I feel an apology gift is necessary! Here, have Chapter 3!**_

 **Chapter 3: A Reunion**

Murphy and Bellamy had somehow managed to drag themselves into the dropship and deposit Bellamy on Clarke's examining table. Murphy then ran across to the cabinets, pulling down a bundle of cloth strips, a needle and thread, a pot of seaweed salve, and a large bottle of Monty and Jasper's moonshine.

Murphy thrust the bottle in Bellamy's direction and set up all the equipment. Bellamy took a long swig and then handed it back to Murphy. Murphy looked at it for a moment, shrugged, and then took a swig himself, before pouring some of it over his hands. Glancing at Bellamy while threading a needle, he spoke.

"You ready?" Bellamy looked at him with a stony expression in place, took off his shirt and laid down on his back.

"Do it."

Murphy nodded to himself and then turned to Bellamy, pouring the rest of the moonshine bottle over his abdominal wound. Bellamy bucked off the desk and let out a bellow of pain, trying to curl away from Murphy before catching himself and lying flat again. Murphy held up the needle while shooting him a questioning look. Bellamy nodded and winced as Murphy pierced his skin with the needle. Once he was finished he pulled back and looked at the stitches. They were ragged, messy and would definitely scar, but they'd do the job of holding the fearless leader's guts inside his body. Murphy scooped out some of the seaweed salve and slathered it over the wound before wrapping it with some cloth strips and stepping back.

Bellamy manoeuvred himself into a sitting position and looked down at his side. From what he could tell, Murphy had done a decent job, and done his best to minimise infection and keep Bellamy alive. He looked up at Murphy who was watching him cautiously.

"Thanks."

Murphy looked taken aback for a moment, before smiling that small smile again and nodding his head.

"No problem boss."

Bellamy nodded and then gestured for the supplies. Murphy handed them over, looking slightly confused as Bellamy began to shimmy out of his pants.

"Dude, what the hell?"

Bellamy glared at him and finished removing them, knowing his reasoning would soon become apparent. He bent his knee up on the table and hissed as he got his first good look of just what damage that Spacewalker bastard had done to his leg.

Murphy let out a low whistle. "That must hurt like a bitch."

"You have no idea." Bellamy pressed out through a grimace. Just looking at it made it hurt worse. He didn't know how the hell he was going to get the bullet out, sterilise it and stitch it up. Murphy wouldn't be able to do it, Bellamy would automatically push him away because of the pain. Of course, that became a non-issue if he was unconscious, but there was no way he trusted Murphy enough for that yet. No. He would have to do it himself.

He had Murphy pass him some tweezers and a fresh bottle of shine. He took a healthy swig from the new bottle before dousing the tweezers with it. He took a deep breath in and inserted the tweezers into the bullet wound. He howled in pain as he began to wiggle the tweezers around in an attempt to find the bullet. He blinked, vision blurry as he nearly passed out from the pain. He couldn't do this. Not alone.

He looked up at Murphy and held out the tweezers to him with a defeated sigh. Murphy stepped forward to take them, and then froze. Bellamy cocked his head and looked at him strangely. Then Murphy began to slowly raise his hands above his head.

"Hands behind your head." Murphy did as he was told with slow, deliberate movements. Then he collapsed to the ground from an almighty kick to the back of his knee, revealing the two figures in Grounder clothing standing behind him. One was large, with a bow and quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder and a large knife in his hand. The other was small, a collection of knives at her belt, and an assault rifle pointed directly at Murphy's head.

 **A/N: Yay! Another cliffhanger for you guys! Oh, how I love them. It won't be this long between updates again, I promise!**

 **Please R &R!**


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